He hadn't gambled or played the horses or hit the booze back there in little old New York…. And like that gospel it meant something, something different from its phrases, something elusive, and yet something that in spite of the superficial incoherence of its phrasing, was largely essentially true. Home!— which I never hoped to see again. Those who had seen him slumbering, averred that he slept with his eyes open.
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